


The Moldova Incident

by smarshtastic



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Covert Operation, Disobeying Orders, M/M, Politics, Prank Wars, Punishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 14:51:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11602908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smarshtastic/pseuds/smarshtastic
Summary: “You heard me, Jesse,” Gabe says. “Grounded. Offline - the whole team. No missions. Nobody sets a toe out of this base. We can’t afford to be decommissioned entirely - the world can’t afford for us to be taken out of the game. So we’re going to play by the UN and Morrison’s rules until they say otherwise.”---Grounded after a mission gone awry, Jesse and the rest of the Blackwatch Strike team work together to bend the rules.





	The Moldova Incident

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fabrega](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabrega/gifts).



> It's Day #2: Breaking the Rules/Teamwork for [Blackwatch Week](https://blackwatchweek.tumblr.com/)! Check out the [twitter](https://twitter.com/blackwatchweek) and [tumblr](https://blackwatchweek.tumblr.com/) to see all the amazing fanworks folks are posting. There's already so much good content I'm so impressed with everyone's contributions *___*
> 
> As always, huge thank you [fabrega](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabrega/) for all her helpful comments and critiques! I couldn't have done it without her ♥ 
> 
> You can find my on [tumblr](http://wictorwictor.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/smarshtastic)! Come say hi!

“Grounded?” Jesse repeats, even though Gabe made it loud and clear. There’s a pinch between his eyebrows and a dark look in his eye that is all too familiar to Jesse - he knows there’s a storm coming. Still, when Gabe speaks, his voice is even. 

“You heard me, Jesse,” Gabe says. “Grounded. Offline - the whole team. No missions. Nobody sets a toe out of this base. We can’t afford to be decommissioned entirely - the  _ world _ can’t afford for us to be taken out of the game. So we’re going to play by the UN and Morrison’s rules until they say otherwise.”

Jesse feels Shiga shift at his side. There’s no arguing with Gabe when his tone gets like this, and the whole team knows it. They’ve been fighting an uphill battle for a long time -  _ years _ , at this point. It was bound to happen one day, but nobody expected it to happen like this. A helpless, grim mood falls over the team like a wet wool blanket. 

“Dismissed,” Gabe says, turning away from the strike team. 

They filter out in ones and twos, not even murmuring amongst themselves. Jesse hangs back even though Gabe has turned away from the conference table to unplug his tablet from the console. He waits for the door to slide shut behind him before he speaks. 

“Are you okay?” Jesse asks. Gabe’s shoulders go stiff, then sag as he bites out a hollow laugh. Jesse breathes out. “Stupid question, sorry.”

Gabe turns back to Jesse, letting the anger and frustration bleed into his expression. One hand holds the tablet slack at his side as he gestures with the other. 

“This isn’t what I wanted for any of us,” Gabe says. “And there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it.”

Defeat creeps into Gabe’s voice, making it waver on the last few words. Jesse crosses the room to pull Gabe into his arms. Gabe resists a moment, then melts against him, dropping his head to Jesse’s shoulder and bringing his arms up around Jesse’s waist. Jesse rests his cheek against Gabe’s head. 

“It’s not your fault,” Jesse murmurs. Gabe lifts his head. 

“I sent you all into restricted airspace. I knew what I was doing.”

“We were helping people.”

“Not the way we should be, according to Jack and the UN,” Gabe says. He pulls away from Jesse, tugging his beanie off and scrubbing his hand through his hair. 

“They just need some time to cool off,” Jesse says, trying to be reasonable. It doesn’t help anyone if they’re both mad - even though Jesse is well and truly pissed about how the whole thing has been handled. It’s not the first time Blackwatch has been thrown under the bus - with Gabe shouldering the blame - and it certainly won’t be the last, considering how things have been going lately. But Jesse can’t stand how they treat Gabe through all this; as if Gabe didn’t save the world during the Omnic Crisis, as if Gabe was an incompetent fool, as if Gabe didn’t give everything he had to an organization that took him for granted. 

“Yeah,” Gabe breathes out. 

“Come on, let’s go get some sleep.”

Gabe relents, letting Jesse lead the way back to Gabe’s quarters. He’s quiet the entire walk there but Jesse doesn’t try to break the silence. They’ll figure this out. 

=-=-=

The first few days being grounded aren’t too bad. Everyone manages to catch up on their backlog of paperwork within a day or two, and then they’re essentially left to their own devices. The Blackwatch team only rarely gets time off so it’s a novelty to be able to sleep in, catch up on forgotten paperbacks, and call various family and friends. But such things can only keep them occupied for so long; confined to the Swiss base, the Blackwatch strike team starts to get a pretty bad case of cabin fever. 

Jesse is doing his best not to get too restless, but he isn’t used to being cooped up like this. Sitting on Gabe’s bed while Gabe works, Jesse tries to concentrate on the book he’s reading. He drums his fingers on the nightstand and rereads the same line for the third time. The words wash over his brain without sticking. 

“You have to stop,” Gabe says without looking up from his tablet. In spite of being sidelined, the work doesn’t end for Blackwatch’s commander - it’s just his team that doesn’t have anything to keep them occupied. 

“Stop what?” Jesse asks. 

“You’re driving me crazy,” Gabe says, finally looking up. He sets his stylus down. “You should go spar or something. Get that all that energy out.”

“We could try something else,” Jesse says, setting his book aside and sprawling out on the bed in what he hopes is an alluring fashion. Gabe gestures to his tablet. 

“I have work to do, Jesse.”

“But you have time for sparring?” Jesse asks, letting his body flop back into the sheets. Gabe sighs. 

“I meant that you could spar with Shiga. Or maybe Edwards.”

“Gabe,” Jesse says, a whine coming into his voice. He hauls himself up and cross the room to drape himself over Gabe’s shoulder. He doesn’t have to see Gabe’s face to know he’s rolling his eyes. “Isn’t there something I can do?”

“No,” Gabe says firmly. “You’re off-duty. All of you are. We’re playing by the rules, remember?”

“Since when do we play by the rules?” Jesse asks. Gabe turns his head to press a light kiss to Jesse’s lips. 

“Since we were threatened with decommissioning,” Gabe says. Jesse sags against his shoulder. Gabe kisses his forehead and then picks up his tablet again. “It’s important, Jesse. You know that.”

Jesse  _ does _ know that, but he also has never been so bored in his life. He feels like he’s going to crawl out of his skin. 

“There’s really nothing you can give me to do?”

“Sorry, Jesse,” Gabe says, and it sounds sincere. “I’ll get us out of this mess. It just might take a while.”

=-=-=

The days stretch on and the prank wars begin in earnest. It starts out innocently enough: Shiga pulls out and rearranges all of Edwards’ drawers, Prithi hides a walkie talkie in Shiga’s room and meows into it periodically, Wake puts benzocaine on Jesse’s toothbrush (which Jesse - once he regains feeling in his mouth - admits was hilarious). But then  _ some _ one (and nobody cops to who is responsible) goes and zip ties all of Shimada’s belongings together, including all of his personal sharp objects - of which there is a surprisingly large number. The unnamed culprit leaves a pair of scissors in the middle of his quarters (also zip tied), which only infuriates him. 

The prank war ends abruptly before any fatalities are reported, but not before Morrison gets wind of it. The strike team is assigned a week’s worth of janitorial duty - which, all things considered, isn’t actually  _ completely  _ terrible since it at least gives them something to do. The base has never looked more sparkling. 

In the mess, Jesse scrubs the steam tables while Shiga mops and Valdez wipes down tables. Stef wasn’t exactly involved in the prank war, but she was dying for something useful to do, so she takes the punishment without any complaining. They’ve left one of the vidscreens on while they work; none of them are really talking, letting the news anchors’ chatter fill the silence. 

“Riots in Chisinau have escalated with new reports that certain government officials sanctioned the recent killings by security bots across the city. The officials have yet to be found, in spite of widespread calls for them to come forward,” the news anchor intones. Jesse stops scrubbing, leaning on the steam table as images of tear gas and riot police flash across the screen. Something twists in his gut. 

“Cowards,” Valdez bites out as the report gives way to commercials. Shiga looks up. 

“They're politicians, Stef. They're cowards by definition,” Shiga says, twirling his mop in place. 

“More cowardly than usual, then,” Valdez says. 

“What can we do?” Shiga asks. Valdez gestures to the vidscreen. 

“Our job.”

The gears in Jesse’s head are turning. He balls up the rag in his fist. 

“We could,” he says. Valdez and Shiga exchange a look as they turn to Jesse. 

“Grounded,” Valdez reminds him. “No operations. You want to scrub more latrines, Jesse?”

“Are we covert operatives or not?” Jesse replies. “Morrison wouldn't notice an elephant if it bit him in the ass, let alone some highly trained covert operatives sneaking around.”

“Elephants are herbivores, Jesse,” Shiga says. “Plus, Morrison has no ass to bite.”

“He would definitely notice if we suddenly went quiet,” Valdez points out. “We’ve been under a microscope since that whole zip tie thing.”

“I really wonder who thought that was a good idea,” Shiga says thoughtfully. 

“It doesn’t matter, now,” Valdez says. “We have to be on our best behavior, no questions.”

“For how long, Stef?” Jesse asks, the frustration bleeding into his tone. He gestures at the vidscreen as the news report rehashes the riots that are spreading throughout Moldova. “This is the kind of stuff we’re meant to take care of. We should be out there - we could put a stop to this. Save lives before it’s too late.”

Valdez frowns, a muscle working in her jaw. Shiga leans on his mop, watching her. Jesse knows that she’s conflicted - caught between her respect for authority and her desire to do what’s right - but he knows better than to push the issue. He goes and turns off the vidscreen. The three of them finish cleaning the mess in a thoughtful silence. 

=-=-=

“Any updates?” Jesse asks that night as he and Gabe get ready for bed. 

“You’d be the first to know if there were,” Gabe says, gently chiding. He kisses Jesse’s temple. “I’m working on Jack. There’s plenty of places he needs us - we just have to be patient.”

Jesse makes a little frustrated noise around his toothbrush. Gabe presses another kiss to his temple, picking up his own toothbrush. Jesse wonders how much longer they’re going to have to wait. The wheels in his head are turning. 

=-=-=

“Hey,” Jesse says, sliding into a seat across from Edwards. Shiga drops his tray down next to them. Edwards looks up. 

“Hey,” he says uncertainly. 

“What’s that face for?” Shiga asks, shoveling pudding into his mouth. 

“I don’t have a face. You two have that look about you,” Edwards says, gesturing between them with his fork. Jesse shrugs and takes a bite of his sandwich. 

“No, look. We’re just eating lunch. Don’t make it weird,” Jesse says. 

“You’re the ones making it weird,” Edwards says. Shiga rolls his eyes. 

“How are you a covert operative, again?” he asks. Edwards huffs. 

“I’m  _ very _ good at what I do,” Edwards says. Jesse waves a hand. 

“Look, we’re not trying to start fights here,” Jesse says. “That’s the opposite of what we want to do. We’re just some teammates, having lunch.”

“Right,” Edwards says, still uncertain. Jesse keeps eating his sandwich and Shiga doesn’t say anything for a while, absorbed as he is by his pudding. Eventually, Edwards relents and goes back to eating his own food. 

“Aren’t you bored, Eddie? We’re bored,” Shiga says, making a grab for Jesse’s pudding. Jesse bats his hand away. 

“You can tell because Shiga is eating everything.”

“Hey! What else is there to do? I can only scrub so many toilets.”

“We’re not starting another prank war,” Edwards says. “You heard Morrison - plus, I think Shimada might actually murder someone -”

“That’s not what we’re saying,” Jesse says, pausing to wrestle his pudding cup away from Shiga. 

“Have you been watching the news?” Shiga asks, finally giving up and eating a vegetable off his own tray. Edwards shrugs. 

“I guess. Why?”

“You saw what’s going on in Moldova, then?” Jesse asks. 

“Yeah,” Edwards’ face darkens as he frowns. He picks listlessly at his steamed carrots. “It sucks. We should be out there.”

“Our thinking exactly,” Shiga bobs his head. Edwards looks between them. 

“We’re offline,” he says. Jesse shrugs as he pops a potato chip into his mouth.

“Yeah. It sucks.”

The three of them fall quiet, eating in silence for a few minutes. Shiga heaves a sigh and pushes his tray away from him. Edwards looks between Shiga and Jesse. 

“What if - I mean, we might be able to do something,” Edwards says. Jesse looks up, schooling his face into a neutral expression even though that spark of hope in his chest is beginning to grow larger.  

“You think we could?”

Edward looks thoughtful, then nods slowly. “I think we could.”

=-=-=

“You’re up to something,” Gabe says, kissing Jesse’s bare shoulder lazily. Jesse pulls him in to kiss him properly. He lingers there for a moment, savoring the soft press of Gabe’s lips on his own. 

“Mm - am I?” Jesse asks finally. Gabe pulls away enough to look him in the eye. 

“It’s not another prank war, is it?” Gabe asks warily. Jesse laughs and kisses him again. 

“No, it ain’t another prank war, Gabe,” Jesse says. Gabe scrunches his face up as Jesse peppers little sweet kisses over his face. He pulls away. 

“It’s  _ some _ thing, then,” Gabe says. “You’ve been moping for weeks.”

“I haven’t!”

“You have, and now you’ve got a spring in your step again,” Gabe says. Jesse tries to pull Gabe back in but Gabe resists. 

“Maybe I’m just happy to be here,” Jesse says. Gabe makes a little noise, his face going serious. 

“Whatever you’re doing, Jesse -”

“Gabe -”

“I mean it -”

“Hey. Don’t worry about it,” Jesse says, matching Gabe’s serious look. Gabe’s expression goes skeptical. 

“You can’t get in trouble with Morrison again,” Gabe says. Jesse doesn’t miss the small pleading note that comes into Gabe’s voice. “I need you here.”

Jesse relents, even though a slightly guilty feeling starts to well up in his chest. He gathers Gabe up into his arms and kisses him again. “Don’t worry, really. Trust me, okay?”

Jesse feels Gabe melt against him. “I trust you. But you’d tell me if I had to worry about anything, right?”

“Absolutely.”

Gabe tips his head up to look at Jesse, eyes searching his face, brow furrowed. Jesse doesn’t like keeping secrets from Gabe - but he reminds himself that this is important; if they want this to work, Gabe cannot know a single thing about it. It’s for his own safety. He absolutely cannot be blamed for anything that Jesse and the other strike team members are planning, so he has to be kept in the dark. It’s for everyone’s benefit.

Jesse kisses Gabe until he feels the worry go out of his face and they’re both panting for round two - or is it three? Wrapped up in Gabe’s arms, Jesse can almost completely forget about the outside world. 

=-=-=

In one of the rec rooms, Jesse lounges back on a sofa while Edwards types on a tablet, fingers flying across the keys. 

“You’d think they’d lock all this down better,” Edwards mutters to himself as he works. Jesse sits up, propped up on his elbows. 

“Yeah? How’d you figure?”

“I mean, we’ve got really excellent protection from external attacks, but the internal systems are almost laughable,” Edwards says. He hits a few more keys and sits back, looking over at Jesse. “I can get you anything you need.”

Jesse scrambles up and comes to peer over Edwards’ shoulder. He claps him on the back. 

“You’re a saint, Edwards,” Jesse says, eyes shiny as he scans the tablet in front of him. “Would you look at that.”

“You know I wouldn’t normally do this, right?” Edwards says, looking up at Jesse. 

“I know,” Jesse nods. “But this is the right thing.”

“It is,” Edwards agrees. His hands hover over the keyboard. “So - what do you need?”

=-=-=

The trickiest part of the plan, Jesse thinks, is wrangling transport. People tend to notice when something big like a shuttle goes missing, and they certainly can’t swing into Moldova flying Overwatch colors. But it turns out Wake has a different solution: using one of the ships that’s been temporarily decommissioned for retrofitting.

“They’re still functional,” Wake says. “You just gotta know how to fly ‘em. And I’m the best stealth pilot Overwatch has. Aside from Tack, I mean.”

Valdez looks at Jesse, skeptical. Jesse rubs a hand over his face. “How do we get sneak one of those out of here?”

“Should be easy,” Wake shrugs. “Nobody’s really keeping track of them and if you get Edwards to do his techy magic with the computers, you can leave the rest to me.”

“Alright. Tonight?”

“I don’t have any plans,” Wake says cheerfully. Jesse looks at Valdez, who nods. 

“Alright,” Jesse says again. “Tonight it is.”

=-=-=

They did their diligence, they have their plan in place; the Blackwatch strike team is the best that Overwatch has to offer, for good reason - even if their reputation gives them a bad name. It’s a crime to sideline them like this, especially when there are people out there that need their help. 

Jesse is spooned up against Gabe’s back, listening to his breathing lengthen and even out, keeping his own breaths soft and slow. He presses a kiss to the back of his neck before he starts easing himself away from Gabe’s body. When his feet touch the ground, Gabe’s voice cuts through the darkness. 

“Where are you going?” Gabe asks. Jesse grimaces and half-turns back to look at Gabe. 

“I can’t tell you,” Jesse says. Even though he can’t see his face, Jesse can imagine Gabe’s eyes boring into his own. 

“Jesse…” Gabe starts to say. Jesse leans down to press a kiss to his mouth. 

“Do you trust me?”

“Jesse -” Gabe says again, a hurt note coming into his voice. Jesse kisses him again, cupping his face with both hands. 

“I can’t get you in trouble for this,” Jesse says, quietly, urgently. “This one’s on me, alright?”

The pause stretches on between them. Jesse feels the fight go out of Gabe’s body. That guilty feeling rises in the back of his throat again, but he pushes it down. 

“Be safe, okay?” Gabe says, barely audible. Jesse kisses him one last time. 

“I will. I promise. Back before you know it.”

Gabe lets Jesse go, rolling back onto his side away from the door. Jesse pads away on bare feet. 

“Jesse?”

“Yeah?”

“Love you.”

Jesse stops, hand on the door. He smiles, even though he knows Gabe can’t see him. “Love you too, Gabe.”

=-=-=

Jesse grabs his tac gear and meets up with the other agents at the prearranged location. He counts Prithi, Shiga, Wake and - 

“Shimada?” Jesse asks incredulously when he spots the red LEDs glowing next to the decommissioned shuttle. 

“I believe my skills would be valuable,” Shimada says simply. 

“He’s not wrong,” Prithi says. Jesse nods - another skilled agent wouldn’t go amiss here, and it's not often that Shimada actually acts like part of the team, so Jesse isn't going to question it. 

“Alright then. Let’s get going.”

They pile into the shuttle and Wake takes off into the night, easily melting into the clouds overhead. It’s a bumpier ride than normal, but Jesse has full confidence in Wake’s abilities. Valdez checks in via their comms. 

“Test, test,” she says into their ears. 

“All clear,” Jesse replies. “En route now.”

“Edwards and I are monitoring your lines. Let us know if you need anything.”

“Roger that,” Jesse says. “We’ll ping you when we land.”

“Stay safe out there,” Edwards says over the comms. Jesse can’t help the smile that’s spreading over his face; it feels good to be out on the job again. 

“Going silent now. Over and out.”

The flight to their coordinates just outside of Chisinau takes a little under two hours. Wake stays off the radars expertly, navigating just outside of operational range and using Edwards to scramble their signal. It's almost laughably easy; of course Blackwatch would be able to get around Overwatch’s rules - it's literally their job. It was out of respect to Gabe, more than anything else, that they even tried playing by the rules in the first place. 

In the back, Jesse reviews the mission parameters with Prithi, Shiga and Shimada: they tracked down the “missing” politicians to a bunker outside of the capitol and now they have to extract them - without being noticed, without any violence. It has to be a clean mission. 

“You got that?” Jesse asks seriously, his eyes lingering on Shimada for longer than either Shiga or Prithi. Shimada scoffs. 

“I understand,” he says crisply. “I’m capable of staying within the brief.”

“Good. Then this will be easy. In and out - quiet as a mouse,” Jesse says. Shiga cracks his knuckles. 

“Don’t worry, Jesse. It’s not like we haven’t done this before,” he says. 

“And we haven’t been grounded for  _ that _ long,” Prithi puts in. “It’ll be good to stretch our legs.”

Wake sets the shuttle down on a tilled field near a lake, nicely shrouded by trees. Jesse, Prithi, Shiga and Shimada check their gear and then their comms. 

“Landed,” Wake reports in as she powers the shuttle down. 

“We’ve got a lock on your signal,” Edwards says over the comms. “You’re about two klicks away from the site - stick to the edge of the lake and head north.”

“Got it,” Jesse says. “Prithi, you’re with Shimada and Shiga’s with me. Wake, are you going to be okay here?”

Wake gives Jesse a playful salute from her pilot seat. “Fine and dandy. Don’t you worry about me.”

Jesse can’t help the grin that spreads over his face - the Blackwatch strike team is the best, and it feels  _ damn  _ good to be back on the job with them. 

“Alright. Let’s move out.”

=-=-=

It goes off without a hitch. They find the bunker easily and disable the security systems from the outside. There’s barely a handful of guards - seems that nobody wanted to protect the politicians who condoned bot on human violence. Prithi and Shimada subdue them with no problem, allowing Jesse and Shiga to move in and take the politicians into custody. They drop the politicians off at a UN embassy without giving away their cover. 

No blood, no bodies. Quick, clean, efficient. 

High off the feeling of a job well done, Jesse and the rest of the strike team fly back to the Swiss headquarters before the sun even starts to peek over the horizon. Wake lands the shuttle and everyone goes their separate ways, slipping back to their respective rooms before the base starts to wake up. Jesse pauses on his way back to Gabe’s quarters to check in with Valdez and Edwards. 

“All good?” Valdez asks while Edwards wipes his tablet. 

“Couldn’t have gone smoother,” Jesse says. He’s still grinning - it’s hard to stop. Even Stef looks pleased with herself. 

“I’ve got alerts set up for the newsfeed,” Edwards says. “I’ll let you know when everything hits the wires.”

“Thanks,” Jesse says sincerely. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Just glad to have something to do, really,” Valdez says. 

Jesse lets the two of them go to get some sleep before it gets too light outside. He lets himself into Gabe’s room and strips off his clothes before he slides into bed next to Gabe. He spoons up behind him and kisses the back of his neck, wrapping his arms around him. Gabe makes a small noise as Jesse peppers more kisses over his neck and shoulders. 

“‘M sleeping here,” he rumbles, voice rough with sleep but with no bite to his tone. Jesse keeps pressing kisses to his skin. 

“Missed you,” Jesse says. He knows Gabe is rolling his eyes. 

“What time is it?”

“Nearly dawn.”

Gabe rolls over in Jesse’s arms to peer at him in the semi-darkness of his bedroom. “All good?”

“All good,” Jesse nods. He kisses Gabe sweetly. Gabe exhales against Jesse’s lips. 

“Good.”

Jesse keeps kissing Gabe, riding the adrenaline high, hands slipping down Gabe’s sides. Gabe gives in, melting into Jesse’s soft, eager touches. 

“Should - mm - get some sleep,” Gabe says between kisses. 

“Practically morning already,” Jesse says. “Plus, couldn’t sleep now.”

Gabe makes another little noise but doesn’t stop Jesse from kissing him. He’s sleepy and warm and relaxed, letting Jesse’s hands and mouth roam all over until the sky outside the window lightens and Gabe’s alarm chimes on the nightstand. 

“Mm - Jesse -”

“Uh huh,” Jesse mumbles against Gabe’s hip, fingers tracing patterns over old scar tissue and muscle. Gabe reaches to turn the alarm off. Jesse follows with the movement. Gabe huffs out a laugh. 

“I have to get up,” Gabe says, though he makes no attempt to do so. 

“Shower?” Jesse asks, picking up his head. Gabe rolls his eyes but is smiling. 

“Fine.”

=-=-=

Showered and sated, Jesse and Gabe go their separate ways - Gabe to his morning briefings and Jesse to the mess for breakfast. Jesse meets up with Shiga as usual. He pours himself a generous cup of coffee and grabs a couple of packets of sugar. 

“Rough night?” Shiga asks, nodding to the coffee, eyes bright. 

“Something like that,” Jesse says. 

They take their seats at their usual table in the corner, though they both have their ears cocked towards the vidscreen, listening for the morning news reports. Prithi and Valdez join them after their usual morning run. Tack drags in a yawning Wake - not entirely out of character - soon after. Even Edwards comes to sit with them. It's all very normal. 

“The United Nations issued a statement this morning that the politicians accused of inciting bot on human violence as a security measure have been taken into custody,” the news anchor says. 

“Thank god for that,” Valdez mutters under her breath. Edwards grunts in agreement. 

“Maybe it ain't so bad out there after all,” Jesse says. Shiga lifts his coffee mug to Jesse. 

“I'll drink to that,” Shiga says with a wink. Jesse snorts into his eggs. 

All at once, the strike team’s comms go off. They blink and exchange a look. Prithi digs out her comm first. She doesn't blanch, but her face stiffens. 

“We’re being summoned into Strike Commander Morrison’s office,” she says. She looks up and around the table. “All of us.”

Jesse feels his stomach drop somewhere around his ankles and grimaces. 

“When?”

“Now.”

“Well, it was an honor serving with you all,” Shiga says, knocking back the rest of his coffee. 

“That's not funny,” Valdez says. They gather up their trays and start out. 

“Maybe Morrison is putting us back on active duty,” Wake suggests as they wind their way to the strike commander’s office. 

“Maybe,” Valdez says, but her voice is dripping with skepticism. 

Jesse’s mind races. They were careful - exceedingly careful. Edwards covered their tracks better than he could've hoped. They didn't take any more supplies than they needed, and it was all returned before the morning inventory. There were no bodies, no blood. Nobody at the UN embassy recognized them. The decommissioned shuttle’s GPS tracking had been deactivated. 

It was a clean operation. They are good at what they do - the best. 

Maybe they're being paranoid for no reason. 

Jesse knocks on the door to Morrison’s office, the rest of the strike team standing behind him. 

“Come in,” Morrison says crisply. The door slides open and the strike team filters in. Shimada is already there, standing at attention in front of Morrison’s desk. Jesse can't see his face but the set of his shoulders makes the paranoia spike in his stomach again. Gabe is there too, arms folded over his chest and his expression blank. Morrison, on the other hand, looks furious; his face is red, there's a vein throbbing in his temple, and his hand is clenches around a tablet. The strike team stands at attention in front of Morrison’s desk and waits for the dam to break. 

“Is there anything you'd like to tell me?” Morrison asks, an edge to his voice. The strike team doesn't respond, doesn't look at each other. Jesse’s eyes flick briefly to Gabe, but he hasn't moved, hasn't indicated anything from his expression. “Answer me.”

“I'm not sure what you mean, sir,” Jesse says, speaking for the team. Morrison throws his tablet down, which has a map of Moldova on it, a red dotted line crossing the map around Chisinau. 

“Can you explain why Shimada’s trackers appeared in Moldova last night?” Morrison says. Jesse clenches his hands behind his back. He feels but doesn't see Shimada stiffen beside him; he can practically feel the anger radiating off him like heat. 

“Beats me,” Jesse says, voice even. 

“The trackers happen to coincide with a UN embassy outside of the capitol. It just happens to be where a handful of politicians who were wanted for condoning bot on human violence showed up in cuffs late last night,” Morrison goes on. “It's  _ awfully _ coincidental that Shimada’s trackers shorted and somehow pinged in Moldova.”

“Is that what happened?” Jesse asks. He didn't know that Shimada had tracking implants - judging from Shimada’s demeanor, he didn't know about the implants either. Jesse can't help but think that they sound like the kind of chips you put in your pets in case they get lost. It doesn't sit well with him - but then, fewer and fewer things Overwatch does these days do. “Sounds like something Doc Z should take a look at.”

“Don't play the stupid cowboy with me, McCree,” Morrison snaps. “That act isn't cute.”

“What are you asking then, sir?” Jesse asks, his own jaw tightening. 

“Did you conduct an unsanctioned operation in Moldova when you were explicitly grounded?” Morrison asks. Jesse pauses. 

“Yes sir,” Jesse says. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Gabe close his own eyes briefly. Morrison looks like he's going to bust open a blood vessel. 

“Did Commander Reyes know about this?”

“No sir. He had nothing to do with this.”

“What part of  _ grounded _ don't you understand, McCree?” Morrison says, voice rising. “Blackwatch was offline. You stole resources from Overwatch and illegally entered a territory we have no business operating in under normal circumstances -”

“Sir, with all due respect,” Jesse interrupts, his voice rising above Morrison’s. “I ensured the only resources we used were ones that would not be missed. We were there and back in under four hours. There were no bodies, no bloodshed. It was clean. And those politicians got into the hands of the right people.”

“That's not the point, McCree. You disobeyed direct orders.”

“That's our job.”

“No, your job is to do what I tell you to do -”

“ _ Sir _ , you aren't my commander,” Jesse interrupts. Morrison looks like he wants to strangle him, but Jesse presses on. “And I know that you only want us to do your dirty work. We do it real good, too. But sometimes that's gotta mean we do stuff that you ain't gonna agree with. What we did last night was the right thing - they ain't rioting anymore. Nobody else is gonna get hurt.”

Morrison opens his mouth to respond - probably to yell - but his desk comm buzzes. He glances at it.

“The UN Secretary General,” he says. “Get out of my sight. We aren't done here.”

Jesse turns on his heel and walks out with the rest of the strike team. They pause in the hallway for just a moment before Gabe’s voice behind them makes them all snap back to attention. 

“McCree, my office. The rest of you better hope you still have a job by the time Morrison gets off the phone,” Gabe says icily. “Dismissed.”

Jesse follows a step behind Gabe as they head down the hall to Gabe’s office. He stands just inside the doorway while Gabe moves behind his desk. Gabe sinks down into his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“What were you thinking?”

“We did the right thing,” Jesse says, voice going low and urgent. “People were gonna die if nobody -”

“You can't save everyone, Jesse.”

“I know that,” Jesse says, frustrated. “But who else was gonna step up? It was  _ easy _ , Gabe. It cost us nothing at all.”

“There are rules for a reason,” Gabe says. He looks up at Jesse and he looks tired - so tired. Jesse feels that little pang of guilt in his chest again. He moves forward, resting his hands on Gabe’s desk and leaning forward. 

“Ain’t we supposed to be beyond the rules? How are we supposed to do what we do if we’ve gotta keep to the rules?” Jesse asks. Gabe doesn’t say anything, dropping his gaze to his desk. Jesse’s voice goes gentler as he reaches for Gabe’s hand. “Gabe, we can’t just roll over and let them beat us down. I’m tired of playing by everyone’s rules when they keep changing them on us. It ain’t fair.”

“Jesse…” Gabe starts to say, then shakes his head. “It’s not just the rules. It’s about respect - you disrespected Jack’s authority.”

“I don’t answer to him, I answer to you.”

“And I answer to him. You know that.”

Jesse frowns. “I’m tired of this, Gabe. Are we supposed to be kissing rings and keeping our shoes shiny or are we supposed to be out there, making a difference?”

“It’s not that simple.” Gabe says, exasperated. 

“Well maybe it should be!” Jesse says. 

“What are you saying?”

“I dunno, Gabe. Maybe - maybe we stop trying to fight it,” Jesse says, pushing himself away from the desk. Gabe doesn’t say anything, watching Jesse pace a couple of steps away. Jesse turns back to Gabe. “What if we struck out on our own? Do it our way?”

Gabe blinks, taken aback; whatever he was expecting Jesse to say, it wasn’t that. He leans back in his seat. 

“How do you propose we do that?” Gabe asks. “Without resources, people, UN support - it’s impossible to do what we do now without any of that.”

“We’re  _ us _ \- we can figure it out,” Jesse says. “We could just - we could do so much good, Gabe, if we didn’t have to tiptoe around Jack and the UN.”

Gabe shakes his head and looks away. Jesse feels something clench up in his chest. He steps back towards the desk just as Gabe’s comm buzzes. 

“It’s Jack,” Gabe says, picking up the comm. “I’ll come find you when he’s done yelling.”

“Gabe -” Jesse starts to say but Gabe has already answered the comm. Jesse hunches his shoulders as he slips out of Gabe’s office. He can hear Gabe’s calm, even voice as the door shuts and can imagine Morrison’s outrage. Jesse scrubs a hand over his face. He decides to head to the gym to work out some of the pent up energy and frustration. 

Jesse gets a few punches in before Prithi and Valdez walk into the gym. He glances up as they come in. 

“Hey,” Prithi says with a bob of her head. “All good?”

“So far,” Jesse says with a shrug. “Pretty sure Morrison is yelling at Reyes now.”

“We don’t want you to go down for this alone,” Valdez says. Her face is serious. “It wasn’t just your idea.”

“We all had a hand in it,” Prithi agrees. Jesse smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Thanks,” he says. “Hopefully it don’t come to that.”

“I guess there isn’t much to do other than wait it out,” Prithi says. 

So they do. The three of them take turns sparring well into the afternoon, with no word from either Morrison or Gabe. It’s starting to make Jesse nervous; as frustrated as he’s been with Overwatch’s increasingly tight leash, he still can’t deny that the stability that Overwatch has given him is the best thing that ever happened to him. It would be a devastating loss, if he had to leave. He’s not sure Gabe would come with him - and that scares him more than anything. 

The afternoon wears on. Jesse is more and more distracted. He takes a sharp blow to the jaw from Stef that sends him sprawling on the mat. 

“Oh - shit,” Valdez says, bending down to offer a hand to help him up. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine - I’m okay,” Jesse says. He rubs a hand over his jaw. It stings, but there’s no blood. 

“We should probably clean up and get lunch or something,” Prithi says. 

“Not a bad idea. Meet you in mess?” Valdez asks. 

“Sure.”

Jesse showers and changes, still rubbing his jaw. Now that he’s thought about having to leave Gabe behind, he can’t get the thought out of his head. It had never occurred to him before, but it makes sense; why  _ would _ Gabe follow Jesse out of Overwatch? Everything Gabe’s worked for, everything he’s accomplished - he couldn’t walk away from that. Jesse is a fool to think that he would. He’s starting to regret the things he said to Morrison, even if he chafes under his thumb. He doesn’t regret the Moldova operation, but the worry about the consequences of his actions hasn’t hit him this hard in years - not since the prospect of prison was still on the table. 

Maybe it still is. 

Shiga and Edwards join Jesse, Prithi and Stef in the mess. It’s a quiet, somber meal; all of them are preoccupied with their uncertain futures. Jesse’s comm rings and it startles all of them. 

“It’s Morrison, isn’t it?” Edwards asks, setting his fork down. Jesse checks his comm and nods. Shiga claps him on the shoulder. 

“Remember, we’re going down with you, alright?” Shiga says. “We were all in this together.”

“Thanks,” Jesse says, standing up with his tray. He hesitates. “You guys are the best team, you know.”

Prithi flaps her hand at him. “Don’t start that. Maybe he’s just gonna chew you out more.”

Jesse gives her a lopsided smile, but it rings hollow. He busses his tray and makes his way back to Morrison’s office, doing his best to keep his shoulders back and his chin up. He raises his hand and knocks on the door. 

“Come in.”

The door slides open and Jesse steps inside. Gabe is there again, but is perfectly expressionless. Jack, on the other hand, looks even more angry than before - if that’s possible. 

“McCree,” Jack grinds out. “Who else was on you operation to Moldova?”

Jesse hesitates. “Why do you ask, sir?”

“You’re in no position to ask questions right now,” Jack says. Still, Jesse doesn’t answer right away. 

“It was my idea, sir,” Jesse says finally. “I planned the mission. Valdez, Shiga, Jayachandran, Edwards and Wake Newton pitched in with their expertise at my request. Shimada joined when we set out. That’s all.”

Jack turns away and moves behind his desk. Jesse’s eyes slide to Gabe, but he’s still not giving anything away. Jesse feels his stomach turn over. 

“The UN Secretary General is pleased with your work,” Jack says, voice stilted like it pains him to get the words out. Jesse blinks. “The resolution of the situation in Chisinau was surprisingly peaceful and the politicians will be brought to trial, thanks to your efforts.”

Jesse looks at Gabe again, not quite believing his ears. The corner of Gabe’s mouth has twitched up - Jesse’s pretty sure he’s not imagining it. 

“Don’t look at him,” Jack says, distaste creeping into his voice. “Gabe had no say in this matter. This came directly from the UN.”

“Sir?” Jesse asks, just to make sure he’s not totally losing his mind. 

“They’d like to award you and your team a medal for your efforts,” Jack continues. “There will be a ceremony.”

“Oh,” Jesse says. He feels like he has some sort of mental whiplash. Jack stares Jesse down. 

“Do not misunderstand me, McCree: this was an excellent outcome, but flaunting authority will only get you so far. Do not expect to be rewarded for your insubordination again,” Jack says. 

“Yes sir,” Jesse says, a bit dazed. 

“Dismissed. I don’t want to hear you so much as  _ sneeze _ without permission.”

Jesse turns on his heel and walks out of the room. He’s not exactly sure what just happened. 

=-=-=

The bemused feeling doesn’t wear off, even through the medal ceremony at the UN headquarters in New York City. Jesse feels strange in his starched Overwatch uniform. He wore his beat up old cowboy hat - mostly just to feel a little bit normal, but also partly to annoy Jack Morrison. He’s been on his best behavior since the Moldova operation, just in case. Still, Jesse will never pass up an opportunity to irritate the strike commander, even now. 

Jesse stands at attention with Shiga, Valdez, Edwards, Prithi, Wake and Shimada while the UN Secretary General drones on about peacekeeping and conflict resolution. He spots Gabe in the audience; Gabe’s in his own uniform, heavily decorated, and he’s smiling, soft and warm. Jesse finds himself smiling too; how did he ever think that he could leave Gabe behind? Leaving Overwatch would be one thing, but leaving Gabe… Impossible. 

The UN Secretary General shakes Jesse’s hand after he pins the heavy medal to his chest. 

“Thank you for your service,” the diplomat says sincerely, covering Jesse’s hand with both of his own. 

“Thank you,” Jesse says, though he’s not really sure that that’s the correct response. The Secretary General moves down the row to pin medals on the rest of the strike team. Jesse feels out of place so he seeks Gabe out in the crowd again - a safe spot to anchor him to reality. 

A reception follows the ceremony and Jesse finds himself shaking hands with various diplomats until the smile feels frozen on his face. He’s exhausted and about ready to retreat back into the secrecy of Blackwatch. Everyone here thinks Jesse and the rest of the strike team are a division of Overwatch, but they don’t know the details of Blackwatch proper. If they did know Blackwatch’s history, Jesse has a hunch they wouldn’t be as warmly welcomed, despite their peaceful victory in Chisinau. 

Eventually, Jesse manages to slip away from the party. He finds a terrace overlooking the busy city and fumbles in his jacket for his secret pack of cigarettes. He’s just lighting a cigarette when Gabe comes out onto the terrace. 

“Thought I might find you out here,” Gabe says. Jesse holds out his pack of cigarettes, one dangling from his lips. Gabe comes closer and takes a cigarette for himself. He leans forward so Jesse can light it for him before he lights his own. Jesse takes a long drag, closing his eyes and exhaling slowly. “I thought you quit.”

“Mostly,” Jesse says. He peers at Gabe through the smoke, but Gabe is smiling. Jesse gestures towards the party inside. “Just - needed a break.”

“It’s always a lot.”

“I’ll never get used to it,” Jesse says. Gabe takes a drag from his own cigarette, leaning against the railing of the terrace. 

“Are you still thinking about walking away?” Gabe asks after a moment. Jesse blinks, then hesitates. 

“I - no. I don’t think so,” Jesse says. 

“That sounded decisive,” Gabe says dryly. Jesse huffs out a breath. 

“I just want to do some good, Gabe,” Jesse says. “And right now, maybe Overwatch is the way I can do that.”

Gabe looks at Jesse critically before he steps in close and takes Jesse’s hand. “We can make it work,” he says. 

“Together?” Jesse asks, looking down at their laced hands. Gabe gives his hand a squeeze. 

“Together,” Gabe nods. He taps the shiny new medal on Jesse’s chest. “You’re Blackwatch’s finest. Even if you suck at following orders.”

Jesse finds himself smiling. He ducks his head. “Well.”

Gabe lets go of his hand to tip Jesse’s chin back up so he can kiss him. He tastes of cigarettes and expensive whiskey and Jesse can feel him smiling against his mouth. 

Someone whistles from the door to the terrace. Jesse turns his head to see Shiga, Valdez and Prithi peeking through the door. Shiga waves. 

“Don’t mean to interrupt you two,” Shiga says. “But they’re toasting to us again. They’ve got champagne.”

“We’ll give you a minute,” Prithi says, tugging Shiga and Valdez back inside. Jesse stubs out his cigarette and Gabe follows suit. Jesse leans in and kisses him one more time. 

“How’d I get so lucky, huh?” Jesse asks. Gabe smiles. 

“You worked hard to get here, Jesse,” he says. “You deserve it.”

Jesse smiles a little wider. On a night like tonight, standing here with Gabe, Jesse can let himself believe that. 


End file.
